


It's My Fault

by RiddlePanda



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Gen, Kyle / Cartman friendship fic, Stan and Kenny are here but not main characters, there's blood in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddlePanda/pseuds/RiddlePanda
Summary: It was his fault. It was always his fault. And Kyle was usually the one that suffered.





	It's My Fault

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with the intention of just being a friendship fic between the two. If you want to interpret it as Kyman, be my guest. I'm not one to judge ships (unless it's incest or pedophilia)

“Ca- Eric! Move dude!”

Time had shifted into slow motion as Eric Cartman tried to process that he was several feet away from the spot that now held rusted metal, bricks, and splintered beams. His eyes widened as he focused on a mess of red curls and a spot of previously white snow becoming redder each second.

“Kyle!”

Time shifted back to regular speed as the teen hastily made his way to the spot, chucking away the fallen refuse of the building that was burying his frenemy.

Cartman quickly unburied Kyle, taking in the damage, angrily staring at the wound in Kyle’s side. In his haste to dig Kyle out, he had accidentally pulled out a piece of metal that had pierced the redhead.

“Shit! Kyle! Why the fuck did you-”

Kyle’s breathing was labored and his eyes tried to focus on the teen beside him. “Y-You okay?”

Cartman stopped peeling back Kyle’s coat and shirt in order to get a better look at Kyle’s wound and stared incredulously at the redhead. “Fucking really Kyle? You’re fucking bleeding out and you’re asking me if _**I’M**_ okay?!”

“A-Are you?”

“Fucking J- jackass. I’m fine. You’re not.”

Cartman narrowed his eyes as he saw the deep puncture and silently cursed as he pulled his hat off and shoved it on the offending hole. The only noises was Kyle’s heavy breathing and whimpers as Cartman punched 911 a little too hard on his phone, hurriedly giving the dispatcher on the other side their location.

Kyle body shivered a little too violently for Cartman’s taste and he awkwardly pulled his coat off one handed to drape over the redhead. The teen’s dull green eyes focused again to look at the larger teen.

“Eric…you’ve got the drive and a-ambition to be a good person. I j-just want you t-to remember that.”

“Kyle, you’re _**NOT**_ f-fucking dying on me.”

“I m-mean it Eric. Deep down you c-can be a good person.”

“Don’t say shit you don’t fucking mean.”

———————-

Kyle was still staring at him the entire way to the hospital, the paramedics determining that Cartman’s applied pressure to Kyle’s wound was risky to remove until they got to the hospital. Kyle didn’t need to lose any more blood than he had already lost.

Cartman stared into Kyle’s watery eyes once, before looking away and holding out the arm that wasn’t holding his friend’s life in his literal hand. “We have the same blood type. Take all you need.”

He refused to listen to Kyle’s delirious murmurs, refused to acknowledge the weak grasp on on his arm. Kyle wasn’t dying.

————————-

They had gotten into worse situations when they were younger. Much worse. And they had all taken their turns getting hurt. This was nothing. Kyle _**HAD**_ died before because of ManBearPig and Cartman had brought him back to life. This was nothing. Cartman had given him AIDS and they nearly died but found the cure. This was nothing. Kyle had almost died of both heart and kidney failure but he got better. Both of them still had the kidney scars to prove that. This was nothing.

This was everything.

Cartman was staring blankly at his still blood covered hands, the juice and crackers the nurse had given him for donating the two pints of blood to Kyle doing nothing from easing the queasiness in his stomach.

“Eric?”

He looked up into the reddened concerned eyes of Sheila Broflovski. Concern shouldn’t be on her face. She should be angry. This was his fault. This was completely his fault. If he hadn’t made Kyle follow him to that abandoned building behind Kenny’s house. If he hadn’t got into a screaming and physical fight with Kyle for his latest scheme. If Kyle hadn’t pushed him out of the way of falling debris.

Cartman was sure he was fat enough to withstand most of what fell. Kyle however… This was his fault.

“I’m sorry.”

He fell out of the chair onto his knees in front of the woman.

“It’s my fault.”

Diluted red droplets fell on the floor from where Cartman’s tears hit Kyle’s dried blood on his hands and arms.

“It’s always my fault.”

He closed his eyes, waiting for harsh screaming or a smack to his head. He began sobbing as gentle arms surrounded him, pulling him into a hug and shushing him.

“You saved Kyle’s life.”

———————————-

Cartman kept his gaze downward once he reached school the next day. He was shocked Kyle’s mom had forgiven him. Stan and the others wouldn’t be as forgiving.

It was his fault.

His head still swam with Kyle’s whimpers and meaningless lies the teen had told him. He wasn’t a good person. He wasn’t.

He froze as he saw Stan and Kenny at his locker, closing his eyes and visibly flinching as Stan walked over to him and thrust his arm out.

Something was placed in his hands and he opened his eyes to see one of Stan’s protein bars for football in his hand.

“Cartman, dude. You’re pale as shit and you didn’t each lunch.”

“Why aren’t you punching me? Kyle’s in the hospital because of me!”

“I know.”

“Then why-”

“Because Kyle would be mad we retaliated. Especially since it was an accident.”

Kenny put his hand on Cartman’s shoulder. “Maybe this is the drive the city will need to finally tear those fucking buildings down. Poster child of South Park High getting hurt because of them? Especially when they’ve had years to do it? I can just imagine Kyle’s dad is looking for a huge lawsuit to spring.”

Cartman growled and angrily stared at the two. “Are you forgetting I’m the fucking one that put Kyle in the damn hospital!? Doesn’t that mean anything to you!?”

Stan and Kenny looked at each other before turning back to the teen. Stan sighed. “Yeah…but you also saved his life. The Cartman from years ago would have just laughed and left him there and called one of us to say what you did. You didn’t. You stayed with him the entire time.”

—————————–

Cartman had removed most of the more threatening debris from Kyle’s body in a short amount of time, so most of his injuries were not as bad as they could have been. Left wrist was shattered, right knee was bruised severely. A few bruised ribs, angry bump on his head, and various cuts, scrapes, and bruises. The puncture in his side was the most severe. It had just missed his right kidney. A centimeter in either direction would have hit an artery.

The risk of Kyle developing an infection in his blood due to the metal kept the staff on high alert if anything changed. Despite already giving blood to Kyle, Cartman convinced Kyle’s doctor to waive the near two month wait time for blood donation so he could give as much as he could. Why waste precious Type O blood that could be used for others when there was a willing donor with Kyle’s exact blood type?

Cartman began liking the taste of the fresh spinach by the third day of his new diet.

——————————

It would still be another week and three more pints of donated blood later when Kyle finally woke up.

Cartman was in the room when the redhead first began to stir. It was well after visiting hours, but after finding out Cartman would just find ways of sneaking in to keep a bedside watch, the nurses had given up.

“I feel like shit.”

“You shouldn’t be feeling anything. They’re giving you the good stuff.”

Kyle chuckled softly, careful of stitches he definitely knew he had.

“How bad did my mom freak out?”

“She hugged me.”

Kyle raised his eyebrows and stared at the brunette. “Did _**SHE**_ hit her head too? That does not sound like my mom.”

Cartman stared grimly at Kyle. “She was thankful you were alive.”

“You did save my life Cartman.”

“You saved mine first Kyle. Why did you…”

Kyle closed his eyes before focusing again on Cartman. “Because you’re my friend despite everything. I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but I kind of care more about my friends than my own family sometimes.”

“Or your own self.”

“I don’t want to see any of you hurt if I’m able to do something about it. I guess I just…care too much. You’d think I would learn my lesson and not care after getting hurt so much, but I can’t seem to stop. I’m a damn weirdo.”

Cartman shook his head. “No you’re not. You’re a good person, unlike me. I’m dismissing the insane ramblings of a dying person.”

“They weren’t Cartman. I meant it. You do have good in you.”

Cartman rolled his eyes. “I fucking got you nearly killed! I make fun of your religion, call people fat despite me being a damn slob, rag on Kenny’s financial situation, call all the girls bitches. Fuck. I got Butters kicked out of his damn house permanently because I convinced him to talk to his parents like I do my mom. I’m not a good person.”

“You saved my life. You could have let go any time on the ambulance and it would have just been an accident. Your arm and hand got tired and people would have sympathized. You donated blood without a second thought. You’re here at whatever time at night sitting at my bedside.”

Cartman looked away, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket.

“The Butters thing was actually good. You got him out of a bad situation. Who knows what kind of person he would have been now if he had kept living with his real parents instead of PC Principal and Vice Principal Strong Woman?”

“It’s still my fault. Everything is.”

“You’re blaming yourself and feeling bad. Means you actually have a conscience. Means you didn’t mean for something like this to happen. You’re growing up Cartman. That’s a good thing you know.”

Cartman scoffed but turned back to look at Kyle and smiled. “I’m making this up to you Kyle. I mean it. I’ll wheel you down the hallways at school or carry your books or something. You’ll need it when you get back to school.”

“How bad are my injuries anyway?”

“Not as bad as they look. But you were lucky with that puncture wound. You already got one of my kidneys. You weren’t getting the other one. Greedy Jew.”

Kyle chuckled. “How’s everyone doing?”

“Stan’s trying to kill me by force feeding me his cardboard protein bars to help replenish my blood I’ve donated. Kenny’s died like five times. Wendy’s still a bitch and I don’t care if you’ve been out for a week, you better ace the big science test and rub it in her face. Craig and Tweek are still gay. The usual.”

“And you?”

“I’m better now.”


End file.
